Get (it) back together
by naboru narluin
Summary: Vortex is angry at Blast Off, and the world, but Blast Off really wants to reconcile. / Vortex, Blast Off, implied Blast Off/Vortex / fluff, crack, mild smut (kissing etc), implied smut


**Title: **Get (it) back together  
**Warnings:** fluff, crack, mild smut (kissing etc), implied smut  
**Continuity:** G1 [part of ultharkitty's Dysfunction AU]  
**Characters:** Vortex, Blast Off, implied Blast Off/Vortex  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Disclaimer:** Sadly, nothing is mine.  
**Summary:** Vortex is angry at Blast Off, and the world, but Blast Off really wants to reconcile.  
**Beta:** ultharkitty

**Note:** This is brought to you by many conversations about Blast Off and Vortex, and Vortex being annoyed at Blast Off for once. Have fun reading. :)

* * *

Vortex stomped along the corridor, his steps loud in the empty hallway of the base.

Onslaught had just thrown him out of his office, because he was 'in the way' of whatever. Brawl was fragged off at Swindle for not being there, and was in an awful mood, and Vortex was angry himself. Everyone treated him like he was a nuisance, and worst of them all was Blast Off.

A few days before he'd been in the middle of an interrogation. He'd needed the shuttle to check on some information immediately. And just like Onslaught right now, Blast Off had dismissed his request as unimportant and persistent. For once, it hadn't been to get Blast Off's attention, it'd been for professional purposes, and the shuttle had known. At least Vortex thought the shuttle had known, which fragged Vortex off even more.

No one took him or his work seriously. What did the shuttle do for the team anyway? Just _shuttling_ around in space and doing nothing the whole day, only staring at the planet. Everyone could do that! Well, provided they were able to reach orbit – and now Vortex was thinking of those thrusters and wings again…

Vortex scowled at himself. He was still angry, no thinking of either wings, or cannons or whatnot. Blast Off was able to ignore him for orns, even quartex, it shouldn't be that hard.

Vortex entered the rec-room. It was empty as well, and he almost wished someone had been there. He could really use a distraction, or someone to yell at.

It seemed the rations were raised, though, which lifted Vortex' mood a little when the energon cube filled completely. It'd been a while since they could have a whole cube a cycle.

Heaving air deeply, Vortex leant against the wall and sipped. Perhaps no one being there was a good thing. He could calm down a little, and indulge in his little fantasies of hurting that damned Autobot. At least it hadn't been his fault that he'd escaped. The head of special ops had a record of vanishing from his cell on the Nemesis. And while the interrogation hadn't gone as hoped, at least he hadn't escaped from Combaticon HQ so it wasn't their fault.

Vortex' rotor blades twitched, then went rigid as he heard the steps of another mech. Someone big and heavy, and it wasn't Onslaught. The commander's pace was different.

The fantasies of torturing that Autobot changed to the urge to give Blast Off a good talking-to.

The shuttle entered, and of course came straight to Vortex. Or so he'd thought. Blast Off stopped before the energon dispenser, merely glancing at the 'copter.

Vortex ignored it, keeping his stare fixed at the opposite wall. He was still in a bad mood, it didn't matter how close the shuttle was.

He _was_ pretty close. If Vortex reached out, he'd be able to touch the arm and the heat shield.

Vortex' optics flicked to Blast Off and back.

Blast Off turned to him. "You're still sulking?"

Sulking? That was what the shuttle called it? Vortex' engine revved. "I'm not _sulking_." The 'copter pushed himself of the wall, glaring. "For frag's sake! You declined a professional request! You made me lose the assignment and Soundwave took over! I'm slagging fragged off! Do you have any idea-"

"Vortex," Blast Off interrupted.

The 'copter forcefully put his cube down. "Don't 'Vortex' me, slaggin' pit! You think I'm just some stupid, sick glitch, but frag I do important thing-"

"Vortex!" Blast Off tried again.

"I said don't- hmpf!"

His rotors hit the wall, the sudden impact reverberating from the hub into his wires. Vortex' hiss was drowned out by another shock as Blast Off's lips were on his own, strong hands pinning him, holding him in place.

Before Vortex could even think, he returned the kiss while his free hand pushing against the shuttle's shoulder became a desperate clutching.

The kiss was fierce at first, but morphed into something more sensual, causing warmth spreading as Blast Off's glossa met Vortex. It made him tingle all over.

The flavour of energon mixed with the distinct taste of Blast Off, and Vortex had to remind himself that he was still annoyed.

/I'm still angry,/ he commed so that he didn't have to pull away.

/Anything I can do to change that?/ The playful tone in the shuttle's voice made Vortex' legs weak. He knew he shouldn't give in that easily. But with the other's energy field buzzing faintly, scraping his gently, it was hard to remember that he was in a bad mood.

Blast Off bit Vortex lip; the rotor blades' quivering increased. The 'copter didn't answer, and let the shuttle talk.

/How about we go to my room?/ Blast Off's engine rumbled, the deep sound sending a rush of heat down Vortex' backstruts. The large hand on his hip stroked a transformation seam close to his interface panel. /I can make it up to you. All night long./

Vortex' field wavered. He suppressed moaning against Blast Off's lips, and forced himself to break the kiss. Venting loudly once, he glared at the shuttle – it was an effort.

"I'm not your frag machine. You can't just come to me and frag me whenever I'm angry!" Vortex protested, knowing that it most certainly sounded like a farce. He didn't care. Fragging an angry shuttle didn't work either.

The 'copter saw Blast Off frowning. "Fine, whatever. I tried," the voice from the vocaliser missed the teasing note, but was staticky.

Not moving, Vortex kept clutching at the shoulder. Just because he was angry didn't mean he wanted the shuttle to leave.

"Why did you try anyway?" It was an antagonising, bold move, but Vortex wanted to be a challenge for once.

Blast Off shrugged. "Because you've been unbearable for days, and Onslaught asked me to do something about-"

"He did _what?_" This time, Vortex interrupted Blast Off, torn between disbelief and renewed anger. Just an astrosecond before he continued, the shuttle smirked, and leant low.

"Just kidding," he rasped, covering Vortex' mouth once again.

Red optics flicked to purple ones, to the wall and back when Vortex returned the kiss distractedly. Blast Off didn't joke. Ever. Onslaught probably had talked to the shuttle about him, considering the argument Vortex and Onslaught had just a few moments ago. And the shuttle was the reason he was angry, but Blast Off was tickling his interface panel, and his field flared and oh frag that felt good.

Blast Off pressed closer, his engine throbbing. /I'm leaving for space tomorrow./

/Tomorrow?/ Vortex had thought the next time would be in an orn. His hand roved from the shoulder to Blast Off's neck, pulling him further down.

/Lift-off got re-scheduled./ Blast Off's fingers caught the tip of a rotor. /You really want to put off our reconciliation till I'm back?/

Vortex keened and urged him closer.

/Offer still stands./ The black hand found the rotor hub, his thumb brushing it faintly before the touch moved down to Vortex' aft. /I can make it up to you. All. Night./

Consent clear in his energy signature, Vortex flared his field hotly, and wrapped both arms around Blast Off's neck.


End file.
